


Technology

by Shatterpath



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-30
Updated: 2012-10-30
Packaged: 2017-11-17 08:40:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/549679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shatterpath/pseuds/Shatterpath
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Belle is confused by this new world.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Technology

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by season Two

This world is baffling.

 

The cell that had been my home for what felt like a lifetime had been strange enough with its perfectly squared walls and the iron bars that never rusted. The bed made of angular metals was like nothing I had ever known. Metal? For a bed? What a completely unfathomable use for riches! Disembodied voices called from a square of fabric across the hallway and spoke from black boxes with small flagpoles that the cell keepers wore at their belts. And the tiny, evil devices that contain trapped lightning bolts? The sorcery of that place is pure evil.

 

Freedom of the outside world makes me long for that cell. At least there the mysteries were on a small scale. Now, there are garishly colored carriages with no horses that make the most peculiar sounds within their metal bodies, some quite horrible. Things glow behind glass like nothing I have ever seen, not flickering like candles, but a steady, warm glow.

 

The structures of this village are like my cell, curiously blocky and made with techniques I have no comprehension of. I marvel at the massive panels of glass that allow me to watch the industry within. Some trades I know, the baking of bread, the teaching of children, the tending of creatures. Other tasks are utter mysteries.

 

I miss horses, ache for their familiar presence. Particularly old Philippe, who had been father's steadfast companion through many campaigns and a nursemaid to my young self. Even the dogs here are strange, with no task it seems than to keep their masters company.

 

Some part of me, the confused, muddy-minded wretch I was in that cell, understands some of this. Like a faded memory in the mind of a madwoman, scattered shards of memory.

 

Rumpelstiltskin's shop is a comfort, little of the strange magic that he told me is called technology here.

 

I will take comfort as I find it while I learn this new life of freedom.


End file.
